A Conversation About Nagging and expectations

We’re on the edge between winter and spring. The nagging has begun about turning the clocks ahead this weekend. That’s the artificial, manmade nagging. It is by no means the only nagging we’re subjected to this time of year. Bluebirds, for instance. When I take my morning walk to empty the dog, there’s a family of bluebirds who accompany us. They perch on the power lines above us and gently sing their whistly, whispery song. The one that reminds me about the live meal worms they’re expecting again this year. They tell me how much healthier their babies are and how much more likely they can successfully have a second family in the summer. I make my mental note and remember to place the order. Next morning their song repeats the nagging, but they don’t know yet about the treat to come.                                      Bluebirds aren’t alone in their eagerness. Daffodils are poking their noses through the soil. They have no fear of the cold now. But they do their best to look like they’re struggling. Their beds will benefit from judicious raking and cleanup, it’s true. They’re nagging in their own way. My response will be to very gingerly tidy their beds while being careful to retain some untidiness where the beneficial insects are still hibernating. I have learned that encouraging the native “good” insects allows for natural controls that keep “bad” insect populations manageable without resorting to chemicals that are as likely to poison us as them. 

Another silent nagging comes from the Forsythia. They have a slightly different approach. Their yellow blossoms are garish at best, but they are welcome because they strut their stuff when we are hungriest for color. Of course, their nagging is internalized by veteran gardeners. Those yellow sparks of color serve as battle flags for many of us. We shift into active gardening mode and can often be seen roaming around the yard assessing the work to be done.                                                                                                            Being only human, we are delighted by many of the smaller bulbs this time of year. We’re amazed the first time we see snowdrop flowers or crocus bloom, and it always feels like the first time… at least for me. They aren’t nagging, but rejoicing, although they inspire expectations. I start to nag myself once I see their cheerful faces, because I want more. If you are a fan of bulbs in general take a look at the Nature Calls podcast episode 20 at  https://ccecolumbiagreene.org/gardening/nature-calls-conversations-from-the-hudson-valley/episode-20-flowering-bulbs.   There’s some information about what bulbs to plant in the spring, too.                           I start poking around in the perennial gardens and exploring the veggie beds looking for buds and leaf clusters and rosettes that have hunkered down under the snow, waiting for spring. I have done this long enough to have realistic expectations. I know there will be violets preparing to invade into the lawn. There will be the flower buds swelling at the tips of the lilac bushes, and when we look up, willow treetops are turning gold and maple trees are blushing with their red florets. These things reassure me with their return and reaffirm the cycle is normal. In these troubled days we take comfort in the small predictable signs. Nagging and expectations have their constructive place…  looking forward. And remember to spring ahead this weekend.